


Switch

by orphan_account



Category: Muse
Genre: Bodyswap, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Smut, just all of the genres
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1603958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Dom get simultaneously electrocuted and swap bodies. On stage. In front of a huge audience. And Matt gets weird (as per usual).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for mild misgendering, hardcore profanity, sexual content, casual ableism, mild violence mentions, body image content and misogynistic slurs. Basically they body swap, so if it's likely that content herein will trigger you, please don't read for your own safety. I will however say that in my opinion, the problem content is pretty mild. 
> 
> This is my first fic, and I'm actually pretty proud of it. It is unbeta'd but if you're interested in beating shoot me a line.
> 
> Enjoy

This was it. We were going on stage in five minutes. Isolated System had started playing softly and you could hear the roar of the crowd as they recognized the song from our backstage room. 

Matt grinned maniacally at the raucous applause. We weren't even on stage yet and they were going nuts, as was Matt; he's such an attention whore. My leg was jittering up and down with pure anticipation, and a stupid grin was making itself known on my face too. Chris was standing on the far side of the room, fiddling with the tuning pegs to one of his precious basses.

"Mate, the tech guy already did that," Matt says from his perch on a bright red bar stool. It matched his skinnies.

I nodded. "It'll already be in perfect tune."

Chris rolled his eyes and crooned to his bass, "No one loves you like I do."

Matt and I both snickered. "Want us to give you too some alone time?" he asked lightheartedly. 

The door to our little haven opened to reveal Tom and Dom Anderson, who walked in an told us we were on in two minutes and to get out skinny arses to stage right or so help them god. I got up of the couch and hitched up my own neon green skinnies. None of those groupies were gonna see my fabulous arse, thank you very much. 

We walked out of our room down a sterile looking hallway, Matt moaning in falsetto the whole way. Really, did he have to 'warm up' like that. It was bloody indecent, that's what it was, but I couldn't help grinning at him. Chris was still nursing his black bass and I was twirling some drum sticks. 'Wait, where did they come from,' I thought to myself. 'They weren't in my pockets and I didn't have them on the couch. Tom must have given them to...'

"Wait a second," I said out loud. "Tom didn't say to have a good gig! Fuck!"

The instant reaction from Matt would have been comical in really any other situation, but all three of us knew that shit goes down when Tom bloody Kirk doesn't tell us to have a good gig. 

"Kirk!" he roared. How did such a small and even feminine man have such forceful and ferocious voice? "Thomas Kirk, get your skinny arse down here!" he yelled up the hallway, in the general direction of where Tom was last seen. 

We didn't exactly have time to spare, but I didn't really want to be the one to tell Matt to get over it. Hell would freeze over before I willingly bring upon myself the wrath of the Bellamy. I shared a quick glance with Chris, and, as though he could read my mind, he coughed slightly to get Matt's attention. 

"Look, mate, it doesn't look like he's gonna be able to come down. We're just going to have to do it anyway. And we'll rock!" said Chris, ever the level headed one. 

Matt nodded mutely, and for a moment I wondered just how much he cared about our little superstition. I mean, I was hardly thrilled Kirk didn't get to wish us luck but I was sure we'd all get off stage alive at the very least. Matt didn't seem so sure. 

We had to go on, and with only about 15 seconds of Isolated System left there wasn't enough time to comfort Matt properly, so I settled for giving him a reassuring pat on the back. 

Chris walked on stage first and the crowd went wild. I was next, and somehow the volume of the cheers increased. Finally, Matt snapped out of his little moment and walked on stage. The crowd got even louder and I feared for my eardrums. It was always like this though; there were probably a decent amount of people packed into this entertainment center who don't even know mine or Chris' names. Everyone wants a piece of the Bellamy, and it was something both Chris and I had to come to terms with a long time ago. The frontman gets all the attention. 

Matt seemed to have momentarily forgotten his little moment back there, as he picked up Glitterati and swaggered over to his microphone.

"Hello Brisbane!" he cheered, thrusting his guitar into the air as I took a seat behind my kit and Chris walked to his mic. The crowd went nuts again, so thrilled that we bothered to learn the name of the city we were playing. 

Without further ado, Chris broke into the sexy bass intro of Time is Running Out, prompting me to remember the drums in front of me. 

Matt took his signature deep breath, before launching into the song. "I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated, I wanna break this spell that you've created," he crooned, the entire venue singing along at maximum volume. What a way to open a concert.

Things were going well as we finished Time is Running Out, and it seemed as though everyone had forgotten about our freak out. 

Until Undisclosed Desires. 

Fucking Undisclosed Desires. Never again will I play that fucking song.

Matt was swapping his guitar for his keytar, and Chris was swapping basses. I sat there swirling my drumsticks as I remembered how much of a wanker Kirk is. I'm certain I must have jinxed it; what happened thereafter wouldn't have happened if I managed to control my train of thought. 

The exact moment Matt plugged in his keytar to his amp, I made a cunt of myself and kicked the snare drum by accident. There were wires running everywhere and one must have been caught on the drum. I'm no electrician, or psychic for that matter, so I don't know exactly what happened or how it happened, but I was electrocuted. And so was Matt. 

And suddenly I was standing.

About ten feet from the drum kit.

With a fucking keytar around my neck.

And Matt fucking Bellamy's body.


	2. Fried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's some more. Still need a beta. Hint hint.

I was in shock. Terrified. Petrified.

'Alright Dom, don't panic,' I thought to myself. 'You either just swapped bodies with Matt or your dreaming. Probably dreaming. But everything seems pretty real. And I'm definitely shorter than I usually am.'

I snapped out of it (fairly quickly considering the situation if I do say so myself) and walked up to the mic, not sparing a glance back to the drum kit.

"Sorry guys, were having a few technical difficulties, just give us a sec."

With the crowd dealt with, I glanced over to Chris, mostly just to prolong the moment. The thought of seeing myself, as I assumed I would had I actually swapped bodies with Matt, wasn't actually all that appealing. Hey! I may be a bit of an egotist but you can shut the fuck up right now!

Chris looked back curiously. "What difficulties?" he mouthed. 

He hadn't even noticed a problem! What the fuck?

I couldn't really put it off any longer, so I took off the keytar, put it on the ground and turned around.

There I was. No, there he was. But he was me? God, it was so fucking confusing. I tentatively walked over to the drum kit and looked at me. 

"Matt?" I asked. "Is that you? You okay, mate?" Stupid question Howard, neither of us were okay.

He shuddered. 

"Yeah, it's me," he said. "And you're Dom then?"

I nodded weakly. "So we've swapped bodies. Half way through a bloody concert," I summarized.

"We have to finish," he said.

I snorted. I couldn't help it; the situation was just so far fetched. "I can't play the fucking guitar and you can't play the fucking drums. Oh, and I can't fucking sing either. Not to mention we've fucking swapped bodies!"

I may have been over doing it with the 'fucking's. it was my way of coping.

Chris over heard the last part and walked over to the drum kit too.  
"No way," Chris said, shaking his head. "That's exactly the kind of thing you'd say halfway through a concert, Matthew, you cunt. Now get over yourself and start playing."

I shook my head. "I must be dreaming," I muttered.

"We really have swapped bodies, and I would never interrupt a concert like this! Take that back Wolstenholme," Matt said to Chris from the drum riser. 

He seemed taken aback, but then who could blame the poor bugger.

"Dunno what's going on but we have to finish the concert," Matt continued, trying to twirl the drumsticks between his fingers like he's seen me do. He failed miserably, dropping them both to the ground. 

"We can't finish the concert! I can't play the guitar, I don't know if I can sing but probably not, and you can't play the drums!" I said again. 

Chris, seeming to have recovered quicker than both Matt and I, suggested calmly, "Maybe we can. We have the Undisclosed Desires recording, so we play the studio version, Dom can lip sync, and both of you an bullshit your way through the next four minutes. We only have two songs after, so we can just finish after this one and not do an encore. Yeah?"

The sensibility of his idea was crystal clear, make it up and then leave before anyone asked questions. "I'm in," I heard myself say before I started having another identity crisis. 

"Me too," said Matt.

I walked back to the mic and thanked the audience for waiting patiently. The keytar was still on the floor, so I picked it up in the most provocative way possible, giving the audience the best possible view of Matt's arse. I giggled to myself. 'May as well make the most of it,' I thought to myself.

I turned around and flashed a grin at the crowd as the song started playing through the speakers. 'How has Chris gotten the crew on it this quickly,' I found myself wondering, before I realized that I better start playing. My fingers danced across the keys in what I'm sure was a completely bullshit fashion, and I shudder to think what Matt was doing with my drums. 

I strutted towards the mic again and started crooning, "I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide," unsurprised to find that the mic had been switched off. 

Thank the good lord for Chris Wolstenholme's organizational skills.

I spent a decent amount of the song trying to obscure the keytar from the audience, and also trying to draw the cameras away from the drums, unsure as to how well Matt was doing faking it and more than unwilling to look.

"I want to reconcile the violence in you heart," I sang, trying my utmost to look sexy. It can't be that hard to look hot in this body though, Matt does it nearly all the time.

I held the keytar over my crotch, deciding that now was the time to go big or go home. I grinned to myself as I started grinding into it like Matt usually does, and the groupies started having spontaneous orgasms. I got down on my knees and truly got into it, and screams erupted from the crowd. I popped back up to moan some more into the microphone, and I realized for the first time how truly sexual that song is. Like, obviously it's about sex, there's no two ways about that, but dang. It's a sexy song. 

I bullshitted some more chords, and finally, the song was over. 

Fuck. 

The crowd was still going nuts as we left the stage, crying out for an encore, but there was no way that was going to happen. At all.

We got a few odd looks from the techs, and Dom Anderson asked us what was wrong. 

"Nothing," Matt said through my voice.

"Then what was that about technical difficulties?" he asked. "And why did you cut the set short? And why, for that matter, did you not actually play Undisclosed Desires?" 

Chris took that last one. "I had a problem with my bass, and 'cus that song is really heavy on the bass, I figured it'd be quicker to get the techies to just play the studio version then to fix it."

Dom Anderson still looked confused, and a little suspicious judging by the look of disbelief on his face, but he let it slide and we left to go sit in my dressing room. I had a couch in there similar to the one in the waiting room, and I found myself splayed across it without too much more thought. 

My brain was absolutely fried. Or Matt's brain was fried. Whatever.

"Alright Howard, what the actual fuck?" Chris asked.

I frowned, twisting Matt's face into a grimace. "I don't know. I kicked my snare drum and got electrocuted."

"I got zapped too when I plugged in my keytar," Matt added. "That must have been what caused it."  
I looked down at my body properly for the first time. I was definitely him. I was slim, and fucking hot if I do say so myself. I kicked off Matt's shoes and bent up to pull my socks down. I wiggled my toes. That was truly bizarre. I could feel Matt's gaze on me, so I looked up. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Trying not to freak out," I responded, not really succeeding.  
I sat up properly and we fell into an uncomfortable silence. We sat like that for a few minutes, until Chris said, "I'm gonna go and get a story straight, so no one has to find out about this body swap thing. Oh, and I might decapitate Tom while I'm at it," he added as he opened the door. 

Now it was just me and Matt. 

He seemed to be handling it well, or at least better than me. He probably expected for this to happen eventually, the wanker, with all the conspiracy theories he believed. Matt was probably already concocting some bullshit explanation involving the Russian government, zetas and LSD.

"So, I can look at myself naked," the bastard had the nerve to say, snapping me out of my reprieve.

I recoiled. "No you bloody well will not," I said back. 

He grinned stupidly, stretching my face and crinkling my eyes. Consciously I thought I looked ridiculous (that was probably just self consciousness; I may have a healthy ego but everyone has their insecurities), but my body appeared to have different ideas. I felt a stirring in my stomach and slight, almost unnoticeable tightening in Matt's red jeans, and I found myself concerned. Was Matt's body attracted to mine? Now was not the time for revelations of that sort. 

Regardless of how inopportune the moment was, I couldn't help the irrational spark of happiness I felt. I'd always had a bit of a thing for Matt, ever since we were teenagers. He is, undeniably, fucking gorgeous, but he never seemed even the slightest bit interested in men at all, let alone me. But, if he was attracted to me like I thought he might be, who was I to complain.

"How do you reckon we change back?" I found myself asking, assuming Matt had already thought about it.

"Maybe another simultaneous electrocution, but there were so many variables about what just happened, it'd be almost impossible to recreate that situation perfectly. It could have to do with the time of day, the exact position of out bodies, or the fucking phase of the moon," he rambled. It was funny to see his rambling coming from my mouth; I was usually concise, it was always Matt who couldn't get to the point. 

"So we try to zap ourselves again."

Matt snorted. "Weren't you listening? The chances of that actually working are basically zero. It was almost definitely another variable in conjunction with the electrocution."

I rolled my eyes. Or Matt's eyes. Whatever. "So basically were stuck like this."

Matt nodded solemnly. "For the moment, it looks that way."

"Fucking hell. Then we'd better lay down some ground rules. I need to piss, are you cool with me pissing?"

Matt giggled in that simultaneously masculine and feminine way only he can. It was disconcerting hearing that come from my body. "Of course you can piss, you wanker."

"That brings up another thing," I sighed, not believing I had to actually say this. I rubbed my eyes with frustration and a little embarrassment. "I don't know how long we'll be stuck like this, and I know that body has needs-" 

I didn't even get to finish my sentence before Matt collapsed into such violent cackles that he doubled over and ended up flying over the sleek black coffee table in the middle of the room. He landed on the floor on his/my chest with a dull thud, before erupting into even more laughter. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" I asked, trying my utmost not to laugh at him as I stood up to offer him a hand. He rolled over, took my hand and stood up. His smile grew wider as he took a seat on the edge of the coffee table, and I walked back to my couch. 

"You were just telling me to have a wank!" he snickered.

"I absolutely was not! I was going to tell you to ignore anything that body wants except food and taking a shit, you horny tosser."

He laughed again. "I am a horny tosser. Well, you are anyway. These trousers are a little tight, Dom, and they only get tighter when I look at that body. Damn, my cheekbones are amazing."

I could feel heat rising to my face, and soon the very cheekbones in question were tinged with a light pink. 'God, is he serious?' I thought to myself. I mean, Matt's hot, but I also wanted to be with him romantically and if all he was experiencing was sexual, then I wasn't sure if I was okay with that. Not to mention what he's experiencing was because of my body. Was he autosexual? Wouldn't have put it past him. Fuck, it was all so confusing!

"I hope you're not serious, Matt," I said tentatively. 

"Completely serious. This body seems to like that one quite a lot. You wouldn't know why that is though, would you, Howard?"

Okay, not autosexual then.

It was rocky ground, and I was not sure how to respond. He could always tell when I was lying. His proximity was hardly making things any easier, too, with Matt seductively leaning closer to the me. I unconsciously leaned forward too and soon we were face to face.

"Wouldn't have a clue, Bells," I bluffed, hoping that he wasn't doing that thing where he stares into your eyes and sees right through your lies. He's too bloody perceptive.

"Liar."

His crystalline silver eyes were studying my features with such an intensity that I shuddered with unintended arousal. 

"I can tell you want me, or at least this body wants that one," he said softly, gesturing generally to my torso, and then to the body I was occupying. "And I know from personal experience what that body does when this voice goes all low and seductive," he continued, letting his voice drop an octave. I had to admit, it did have a significant effect on me, if the stirring in my stomach was anything to go by. I made a mental note to talk lower more often, should I ever return to my real body. 

Matt looked at me curiously, probably waiting for me to say something equally as honest. The first thing to come to my mind were Matt's eyes.

I had always seen my own eyes as a dull grey, and I was always a bit jealous of Matt's electric blue, but with the silver orbs bearing down on my very soul, I was beginning to develop an appreciation for them. 

"This body really likes those silver eyes," I said softly, drifting ever closer to Matt's face. "And that body absolutely adores these blue ones," I said, gesturing to the eyes out of which I was seeing.

He cleared his throat. "Hmm, yeah. It does," he choked out. I must have been doing something right, I supposed, so I took a chance, leaning even closer until my nose brushed against his cheek and I was gently kissing the side of his mouth.

His shudder was visible, and for a moment I wondered if I was making him uncomfortable. I was just about to pull away and apologize before running out of my dressing room, embarrassed, when he gently cupped my face and angled my lips against his, and I was kissing Matt Bellamy. 

His lips were unbelievably soft, and he was being unbelievably gentle, but he was also most certainly in control. I may have initiated the kiss, but Matt was in charge.

He stroked my jaw gently, urging me to open my mouth, and I complied gratefully. His tongue traced my lower lip, and then stroked and twined with my own. I shivered. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing ever. Matt Bellamy was basically fucking my mouth with his tongue, or my tongue, or whatever. 

It was a surreal experience, kissing what most people would see as an embodiment of myself. Like, people develop such a connection with their appearance that a lot of them feel that their appearance is who they are. If this body switch was teaching me anything at all, it was that that was not the case. I may have been the one looking through those silver eyes less than an hour ago, but as we kissed it was most certainly Matt that I saw.


End file.
